#Merle Dixon too!

[garma-mom]

imagine being racist towards michonne. might as well write scum on your forehead. whether you like it or not "uncle" merle was a shitty character and deserved to be cut off ❤️

REALITY CHECK: Micheal rooker has no idea who you are and doesn't give two shits about your blog ❤️

do you really think he'd want to associate himself with you after calling his FRIEND and CO-STAR the n-word?!

get help.

First of all, BITCH:

You are pathetic writing your comment and taking it out on another person. Everyone has the right to hate or love certain fictional characters, but YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO JUDGE OTHERS AND OFFEND THEM, YOU BITCH.

Secondly: Merle was also a racist, not towards Michonne, but towards T-Dog.

Besides, Michael left the show himself, they didn't fire him, educate yourself, you idiot, and then speak up, because you could fill three pig pens with the shit you have in your head.

Thirdly: Norman Reedus ALSO DOESN'T KNOW who you are, and that's a good thing, because you would make him cry.

Go back to school and don't bother me, you American shithead.

Here you go, shithead, sorry, @merlesuckass. You're really, really pathetic.

And I guess you're black in real life. That's why you took a shit about it. Pheeew, damn. Why me.

[grimesgirll]

rickyl x reader but with rare jealous!daryl

daryl shouldn’t be seething at the sight of rick’s head in your lap.

there’s no reason at all he should be thinkin’ about skinning his best friend. it’s jealousy at its finest.

he can hear merle now, taunting him. he wonders if his brother would call him a “fuckin’ pansy” or a “pussy” first. fuming inwardly all by himself on his recliner. the piece of furniture begins to feel like an island. it’s even worse imagining he’s just watching you and rick.

once upon a time, daryl got a kick out of seeing you get those pretty, big brain thoughts fucked out of your head for just a moment while rick splits you open. there’s something in seein’ you all fucked out, thinking about fueling the fire between your legs only. the legs that daryl often threw over his shoulders, diving tongue first in your paradisal cunt. that would be before rick rolled his way in and insisted he be the first to stuff your tight, yearn slick pussy.

merle would rag on him for that.

“aw, poor cucked, fuck,” he’d try to stifle his laugh but end up roaring in laughter.

daryl does the same thing he did when his brother was alive and ignores the thought. the thought of you can’t be banished from his head though.

no, not when you’re running your hands through rick’s hair and looking down at him, lips moving in sweet muted conversation that daryl is too green to comprehend. he’s feeling selfish now and wishing you two could go somewhere alone.

moments alone with you hit different now. they’re rare but they exist.

like after he and rick spend the better half of the night taking you apart from the inside out, and you and him sneak out to the porch for a cigarette once rick’s fallen asleep.

sometimes daryl thinks rick sleeps worse than judith - the sheriff is basically an insomniac without you. you’re the miracle cure for the horror induced nightmares. it’s like a good spooning with you clears his head, but daryl can’t really fault rick for that. he does however absolutely loathe the sixth sense the constable has for when you’ve strayed away from his arms in the night.

the man’s head is swimming at the thought of you in his arms when there’s a knock at the door.

your glinting eyes are rolling but you’re calling out for your guest to, “come in!” rick’s scowl couldn’t be larger but he fixes his face once maggie comes into view.

maggie looks between you and rick, even sparing a glance at daryl before attempting to stifle a laugh and clearing her throat. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but deanna needs you at her house to discuss important matters.”

you feel rick tense beneath you. barely able to contain your own pouts, you gaze back up at rick and he takes that as his signal to connect your lips one last time. shining under the living room ceiling lights, the two of you mash wantonly wetted lips. lost in each other, you don’t feel the pissed off redneck across the room.

finally breaking apart, you whine and rick almost scolds you, wondering if you have any respect for maggie’s image of you. when he glimpses over your shoulder and catches sight of maggie’s grin, he’s smirking. daryl wants to go out into the woods and shoot something.

���well, duty calls.”

rick’s rolling you off of him, leaving you with another breathless kiss and nodding daryl’s way.

daryl struggles to maintain a cordial face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by rick, who would’ve asked what was up with his typically mellow friend had he more time. the younger man’s more than relieved to see rick and maggie meandering out the door.

“dare’.”

damn, he almost forgot about you.

blue irises meet your dilated centers. the darkened, passion cast pupils beckon him to resume where rick had left off. a hand pats the patterned sofa.

that stirs him from his moodiness - slightly.

you’re assuming your position in his lap once his ass hits the cushion. hands gently wring around his neck until you’re sat firmly on top of him, gaze unmistakable.

“what’s goin’ on with you?”

startled, his breath hitches in his throat. his adam’s apple throbbing uncomfortably peaks your attention. you frown at him until his pink lips move slowly.;

“i feel like i haven’t even seen you lately, baby. and we live in the same fuckin’ house.”

your face falls at the words. “really?” you ask, wanting him to go on. the distraught look painting your typically sunny face has him not wanting to, but he does because you asked.

“you’re always on him, he’s on you. you touch me too and i know you love me. i know you like goin’ out in the woods with me but you feel so fuckin’ far away when you’re right there.”

“i’m so sorry, dare’.”

he’s quick to stop you. “it’s not your fault, baby, it’s not rick’s either-,”

“-no!” you interject, grinding down onto him by accident, eliciting a groan from him which you quickly apologize for.

daryl slaps your fleece covered ass lightly. “don’t apologize for being fuckin’ hot, baby.”

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him. he’s slowly but surely fading into this fairytale kiss you’re bestowing upon him until he hears another apology on your lips.

“baby, it’s okay.”

“no, it’s not.” you’re almost in tears now. puffy lips quake and purse. “you should never feel that way.”

“it’s fine, hon’, i feel better just telling you, an’ gettin’ it off my chest.” he assures you, playing with the top of your fleece shorts.

your eyes trail down to the drawstring of your shorts, and you wipe away a tear, revealing a yearning smile.

“would this help?”

daryl suddenly rolls into you, pelvis pistoning against the pillowy fabric of your shorts. he shrugs. “i don’t know.” he grunts. “maybe.”

you laugh. angling your hips, you dial up the pressure you’re coasting against beneath you when you come closer. daryl straightens to meet you for a kiss, succumbing to you, immersed until you whisper against him, “c’mon, i wanna feel you inside of me.”

daryl raises an eyebrow. “baby, i haven’t stretched you out.”

you shake your head, laughing. “you and rick already took care of that last night. you could stop fucking me for three days and as long as i’m wet-,” you get a blushed out look on your face. “-which isn’t hard around here.”

your lover’s face turns cocky. “you like being ready after being stretched out by two cocks?” pride laces his question. rick could irk him but he did love sharing you with his best friend more than anything.

that pretty little head nods up and down like it’s obvious.

“you gonna take me out and sit on me, baby?”

you’re nodding even more obediently now. falling into the instructions that have your pretty little clit swelling beneath your bottoms. that sends your hands racing to tug down daryl’s jeans, circling your hips as well to quickly spare a hand and work down your shorts. the sight has daryl straining.

“don’t make me wait, you know i can’t,” he complains with a kiss to your neck.

“mhmm,” you hum in agreement and tug down the waistband of his underwear, allowing him to help you with your peach pantone panties.

you involuntarily lick your lips upon seeing his gorgeous cock. the gigantic head primarily has your attention. has it always looked this big? you wonder. you want to take it into your mouth but the urge to give daryl that comfort he deserves has you hovering your already slick pussy above his hardened cock.

all at once, you let your hips descend and the first inch or so of daryl disappears inside of you.

“damn, girl.” the sensation has him crooning and singing your praise as you waste no time rocking up and down to develop that sloppy wetness on him - like you’re greasin’ a fuckin’ pole.

“mhm,” you whine. daryl’s awestruck face, scrunched from how tight you are despite your words, suddenly clears any stress or unease. he’s loving this, you remind yourself. an idea fills your head and before you know it, your begging for a hickey.

“huh?”

“a hickey!” you groan, bouncing with your hands firmly on his chest.

“then c’mere, baby,” and daryl’s clutching you down towards him as soon as you lean in. “i’ll mark you up however you want.” those thoughtful lips imprint into your skin immediately.

you gasp and wriggle against his loving mouth. he feels so wonderful, playfully bruising you with light scrapes of teeth and a roving tongue so well that your thought almost gets fucked out of you.

“want you to mark me up for when rick gets home,” you tell him, panting and squirming with pleasure on top of him.

length brushing against your walls which are flush against him like quicksand, those words are dangerous. he does his best not to fuckin’ jackhammer you to oblivion just at the thought of rick comin’ home to you all purple from daryl’s mouth - the mouth that was already obsessed with your pretty girl clit and taking a vacation between your legs.

“yes, whatever you want, baby.”

“ah!”

you’re not ready for the bite that isn’t as light as you’d expected.

“so tight on me.” daryl chuckles, suckling on the sensitive skin. “felt you clenchin’ like you’re ready, baby girl.”

“does my pussy feel good? squeezin’ you?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering.

daryl almost finished in you right then and there.

“course it does.” he replies without missing a beat. “what kind of question is that?”

the answer and the pace daryl is adopting has you seeing stars. heat is what you plunge into as you slide up and down on daryl. he’s dragging you up and down against him, hands burying fingernail marks in your soft hips while he fucks up into you and worships your shoulder.

the bite to your shoulder is what sends you tumbling into the tirade of pleasure that’s your orgasm.

on the living room sofa, you gasp and cry, tears falling into daryl’s hair as he takes a tit into his mouth, biting down. it’s a soft graze of cautious teeth but you yelp, startled by the pleasure and the spurting of warm come in your tight little cunt.

foreheads bowed against each other’s, you both find a rhythm in your breath - and each other’s lips again.

it’s when you and your lover are unsurprisingly making out again, once you take just a moment to breathe and pull apart, the question’s blurting from your lips;

“you know i love both of you, right?”

daryl softens beneath you. the hands on your waist rub languid, lazy patterns as daryl nods at you. “i do, baby.”

the twinge of a smile is on your lips until you’re suddenly remembering how you got to asking that question and straddling your dare’ like this in the first place. “but you shouldn’t feel that way.”

daryl’s shaking his head, ready to tell you that it’s fine, he’s fine but then you’re saying;

“how could i ever make it up to you, dare?’”

a million possibilities filter through his mind at once. there really isn’t an apology he won’t accept from you.

“how about a hunting trip? just the two of us.”

“i love your mind, baby.” he grunts, bucking up into you with that seemingly impatient, girthy rod.

you giggle in triumph, letting a pretty grin overtake your face. “alright now, back to where we were, huh?” you bear down to capture daryl’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing your way inside for just a brief moment before parting lips. “rick will be back from watch in an hour. how many hickies do you think you can give me before then?”

[marvelandimagine]

Coming back to my hyperfixation on Daryl Dixon after literally like 8 years for whatever reason lol, and also the new season of The Bear drops this week … so naturally all I can imagine is the Richie/Sydney/Carmie stabbing scene but with Merle/Reader/Daryl bc it’s so on brand:

Merle: Yo, why are you being such a fuckin’ bitch right now?”

Y/N: *brandishing knife* I don’t know, Merle, why am I?

Merle: Oh, you gonna fuckin’ stab me?!

Y/N: Yeah, maybe I fuckin’ will!

*both turn to see Daryl approaching, Merle backs into knife*

Merle: AH, FUCK! I got stabbed! Lil bro, I got stabbed!

Daryl: Probably fuckin’ deserved it!

Merle: …. Maybe.

[artemis-b-writes]

Wandering Part One

*Song title inspired by In The Woods Somewhere by Hozier- I do not own the writes to this song I am using it solely for creative purposes*

Tw: nasty gore, violence, death, strong language

- - - .-. -.. . .-. … / …. .- …- . /-.. . . -./ - -. .. …- . -. /-. . ..- - .-. .- .-.. .. - -.. ./.- - .-.. .- -. - .-

Chapter two- In The Woods Somewhere

Victoria didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t the fact that she didn’t trust Dale. Which, she didn’t trust him at all but it was a roof over the kids heads for the night. Something about that Andrea girl didn’t feel right to her. Carl and Sophia were curled up on each side of her on the RV floor. Sophia softly cried most of the night but Victoria assured her that the girl would see her family again.

“Carl, wake up, it's time to go.”

Carl groaned and rolled over. Victoria nudged his face again and he jolted up. His body relaxed when he remembered he was with her.

“Here’s your gun back, thanks for letting us stay the night but the sun's up so we’d better get going.” Victoria shook Dale's hand, she truly was thankful for his kindness as they were facing unknown territory with seemingly rabid humans running around.

Dale called out to the group that they should find him again when their families were found because a group would be safer. Victoria nodded her head and gave him a thumbs up as they kept walking through the woods. Victoria and Carl were used to hiking in rougher territory but Sophia was not so Victoria kept her on her back most of the walk.

“Maybe they went to water?” Carl asked.

“Mmm, that’s not a bad idea…plus we’ve been walking for a few hours. Let’s see if we can’t find a creek with running water so we’re not drinking anything stagnant.”

“What’s wrong with stagnant water?” Sophia asked.

“Well…if it’s standing or stagnant water it can hold a bunch of nasty things in it that aren’t good for you. But if the water is running, those nasty things can’t get a hold and live as well.”

They cut through and found a running creek, Carl and Sophia ran down as fast as their legs could carry them to the water. Carl fell to his knees and began to soak up as much water as he could. Sophia gingerly cupped her hands to the river, and then to her mouth.

“Jeez Carl, you act like you haven’t had water in weeks” Victoria couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her brother's head fully drenched in the river. She fell next to Carl and began to drink from the river as well, when the group was satisfied they decided to follow the rivers trail hoping to find their families.

After a few hours Sophia got tired so Victoria pulled the girl onto her back. It was starting to get dark and Victoria worried about not having shelter. She was relatively strong but wasn’t sure if she could take on more than one of those things at a time.

They made her think of the old zombie horror movies she would watch with her friends but these weren’t zombies they were…different. Victoria could’ve sworn the one she’d killed the night before tried to talk to her. It wasn’t just like the cartoons she’d seen where they just moaned and groaned. They still carried some remnants of life.

“I’m hungry.” Carl's pleas broke Victoria from her thoughts.

“Hmm. We’re coming back up to the road, maybe we can find a gas station or raid an empty car on the highway.”

“Isn’t that stealing?” Sophia piped up from behind Victoria

“Probably. But I don’t think there are any cops on the road and we have to worry about surviving kiddo.”

The group slowly made their way back onto the highway, scoping any source of food in the area. Victoria made sure to keep the kids close since there were crazed people running around. They found a few abandoned cars and were able to get some snacks from them: beef jerky, chips, and some canned goods. Most things people carried preparing for the unknown. This is something no one could prepare for.

“So now what?” Carl's mouth was full of chips, but somehow Victoria understood his question.

“It’s getting dark. We need to find a place to hole up for the night.” Victoria pulled Sophia onto her back as the group weaved through the cars, she tried to shake away the unnerving feeling that kept tugging at her.

They were being watched. “Here, stay here and let me check this RV and make sure it’s empty. If anything happens, scream.” The kids nodded.

Victoria tightened her grip on her hunting knife and crept into the RV, the drivers area and cabin were empty. Despite seemingly finding shelter, Victoria still felt uneasy. As she made it towards the back bedroom, a scream made her whip around and dart back to the street.

“VICTORIA!! HELP!”

Victoria jumped from the RV onto a woman who was trying to attack Sophia, stabbing her several times in the back of the head. “GET. OFF. OF. HER!” The woman crumpled to the ground. Sophia sobbed on the ground and Carl held her. Victoria inspected the woman and she looked the same as the man from the night before, except there was a nasty bite mark on her neck.

“Soph, let me look at you okay? I have to make sure she didn’t hurt you.” Victoria knelt down and let out a sigh of relief when she saw Sophia was clean.

“Hey are yall okay?” A voice came from behind, Victoria spun around and pinned the voice to the car next to them.

“Tori?”

“It’s Victoria, Nathan, you know I hate that nickname…but I sure am glad to see you! What the hell is going on?”

Victoria released her death grip on her friend Nathan. They took Government together and she was the only reason he was passing.

“I don’t know…Hey Tori you’re covered in blood, none of that is yours right?”

Victoria looked down and sure enough, she was covered in the blood of the woman she’d killed. “No no, it’s all that crazy bitches blood I promise.” Nathan’s younger brother Evan ran up and met the group, they were all staying on the road in an RV, somehow missing the herds of crazy people running around.

“Hey big ask but, can we stay with y’all for the night? I’ll be lucky if I get Sophia to leave in the morning but we’re not far from Shane’s truck and I need to find my mom.”

“Yeah sure…wait just your mom?” Nathan shot Victoria a concerned look, her features darkened and her smile became a pursed line. “Oh..yeah of course, my parents love you so we’ll make room. We’re only a couple miles down the road.”

Nathan threw Carl on his back and Victoria kept Sophia close as they walked through the dark, crowded road. They walked in silence, the only noise being Sophia’s muffled cries.

Then the rain started.

“Well at least you’re getting a bath” Carl half heartedly joked “mom wouldn’t want to see you all nasty.” Victoria couldn’t help but smile. Carl was always one to make everyone laugh when things were hard.

“So where were y'all headed?” Nathan shouted over the thunder. That thunder would haunt Victoria forever. If only she could’ve heard them coming.

“Atlanta! Although Shane kept spouting some nonsense about Fort Benning!” She shouted back. Nathan laughed, his dad had the same plan apparently. Although his dad was smart and not an asshole like Shane. She went to ask Evan about school when her steps faltered.

Evan was back behind them, he couldn’t scream because one of those things had bitten through his throat. The sight made her want to vomit. Except there wasn’t just one, there was a whole pack. Tearing his flesh off like paper, tearing through him like his muscles were made of jelly. Victoria could feel the bile raising in her throat.

“EVAN!” Nathan put Carl down and began to make his way to his brother. Victoria stopped him.

“Nate. Nathan! He’s gone.” She choked down a sob, he was only 14. Not much younger than her and not much older than Carl. But he was gone now, just a shell of who he used to be. Victoria made the decision to grab Nathan and drag him away from the growing pack, instructing Carl and Sophia to run ahead.

She didn’t have anything else on her mind but survive. Even though Nathan screamed at her to let him go, he was in a weak state which meant he was easy to drag off.

There was yelling all around her. Sophia screams were mixed with her own terrified screams and Carl was telling Sophia they needed to run and there was no time for crying.

“Nathan, give me your gun.” In their running Victoria noticed a glock on Nathan’s hip.

“What?!”

“Give me your gun Nathan please.”

Nathan stopped running, and fiddled with the holster to give it to her. When one of them came up from behind. Before she could react, a man came up behind Nathan, its jaw snapping his collar bone like a twig, he cried out in pain. Victoria stabbed it in the head and threw Nathan’s arm over her shoulder as they kept running.

“I’m…slowing you down.”

“Shut up.”

Truth be told he was slowing them down. But maybe that lady that attacked Sophia had been bitten after? She’d picked up the tip about aiming for the head from Andrea and that small tip was saving their lives. Everyone was drenched and shivering as the rain continued to pour and the pack kept following them.

“Oh my god Nathan!” An older couple ran up to the group, it was Nathan’s parents.

“What the hell happened?” His father questioned at the sight of his dying son.

“We cannot stop to talk we have to keep moving.” Thunder cracked over their heads, Sophia yelped and grabbed Carl.

“Where is Evan, Nathan, where's your brother?!” Nathan's mothers eyes were wide. Her face was a mix of confusion, pain, and sadness.

“Mrs Carter I’m sorry, we have to keep moving to shelter.” Victoria pleaded, her voice was hoarse from yelling over the storm. But the Carters didn’t keep moving…instead Mrs. Carter began to sob, her voice getting louder and louder. Mr. Carter grabbed her and told her they had to keep moving but it was like she was molded to the ground.

“Mom…mom she’s right we have to go.” Nathan was practically breathless, he was dying. This only made Mrs. Carter cry more and before they knew it the group was surrounded. Nathan threw Victoria away from him as another one of those things took him. He yelled something before he went.

And in an instant Nathan’s body dropped to the ground with the crazy man that grabbed him. Mrs. Carter fell to the ground, holding her hands over her mouth.

“Carl, grab Sophia and run into the woods!”

“Not without you!” Carl cried, holding Sophia’s hand which had a death grip on his arm. “Go, I’m right behind you!” Carl and Sophia darted off into the woods.

Victoria turned back and stabbed another one of those things trying to get away to her brother. The Carter’s held each other as they were surrounded. Victoria did them a favor and shot them both before the dead could get to them. She was just a teenage girl, where had this murderous side of her come from? Sure when she killed those things they were dead but the Carters….

She didn’t take much time to dwell on it; she needed to find Carl and Sophia. Victoria darted into the woods, killing two more of those things because they were in her way.

“Carl! Sophia!” She could hear those things all around her, a lump started to build in her throat. Carl was smart, he’d hide somewhere safe…right? Victoria kept running, hoping the kids ran into their families.

They’d essentially walked in a big circle so maybe they could’ve run into Dale, Victoria was certain he would take the kids in until she found them again. She had to keep her thoughts hopeful or the fear would consume her.

Her thoughts certainly kept her from paying attention. As she ran through the dark woods she tripped on a raised root, spraining her ankle in the process. She rolled into a clearing cursing everything around her. This is just wonderful. Stuck in the woods, separated from Carl and now she had her fucking ankle to worry about.

She attempted to get up and fell back on her ass, cursing at the hot white pain that shot up her leg. Victoria pulled herself back up and clenched her jaw, trying to keep any weight off of her foot.

“Carl! Sophia! Where are you?” She cried out. Crying out from frustration, from pain, from desperation. The storm continued to rage all around her. Then she was knocked to the ground. No. No, no, no, no.

Victoria struggled against the weight above her until she was face to face with a rotting corpse. She screamed out, pulling her arms up to keep its face as far away from her as possible. It tried to snap at her hand, attempting to pull her arms off of its body.

How was it doing that? She wished she could plead with the shell of a man who was trying to kill her. She didn’t see him as a person but truly as “it”. Victoria screamed out again for help. At this point she was begging for any help she could get. Another snap of its jaw, she could feel the hot breath against her neck.

“No, no, no, please.” She begged. In this moment she remembered she had a gun…oh fuck. She’d lost the gun she’d gotten off Nathan when she fell on that stupid fucking tree branch. Her arms were getting tired, she was tired. No. She had to keep fighting. She tried to kick her legs up in hopes of pushing it off.

Victoria pushed the side of its face as hard as she could, it’s cheek sliding off it’s face like hot butter leaving its teeth fully exposed. Blood from his bloodied tongue dripped onto her face, and she lost her grip trying to wipe the blood away from her mouth and eyes.

“Hey!” Its head was picked up and cut off, spraying blood everywhere. Victoria looked up at her savior with wide eyes. He held a machete in one hand and the things head in the other. He dropped the head and extended a hand to Victoria. “You Victoria?” He asked gruffly. She shakily nodded.

“Y-yeah I’m V-ictoria.”

“Good, they’ve been looking for you all night. Carl and Sophia are safe, they told us to look for you by the highway.” Carl and Sophia were safe, thank god. “I’m Daryl by the way.”

Victoria was silent and shaking violently. She was covered in blood, and none of it was hers. Before she knew what was happening Daryl was holding her up as she got sick. She explained to Daryl that she couldn’t walk with her ankle and so he pulled her onto his back and they made their way back to camp.

As the rain started to fizzle out Victoria started to recognize the terrain, and a certain small clearing in the hills.

And just as she’d hoped, there stood Dale at the top of his RV with a pair of Binoculars. He waved someone down when he spotted Veronica and Daryl, Daryl set her down when they got to the RV but she still kept a firm grip on him. He wasn’t much taller than she was. He seemed to have a closed off personality but she felt safe with him.

“Dale!” She hugged him tightly. “Where are the kids?”

“Over there” he pointed to Carol and her mom holding their children. “they’re pretty shaken up, what happened out there? I just saw y’all this morning.” Dale’s face held a strong look of concern.

Victoria’s shoulders slumped, where would she even start? She started to shake again and could feel Daryl grab both her elbows to hold her up. She felt sick again, and shut her eyes tightly hoping it would ease her swimming head.

“Victoria!” Before she could process what was happening, Shane was pulling her into a tight hug. And while the only person she wanted at that moment was her dad, she couldn’t help but break down knowing she was safe the arms of someone familiar.

She held both hands over her mouth as her sobs wracked her body. Everything that had happened in a matter of a couple hours- if that, was finally starting to set in.

Sophia being attacked, the Carters, the man in the woods, the blood. She cringed at the way her thoughts raged through her head. It was almost too much for one person to bare. She accepted at that moment that she would never be the same again, and it absolutely terrified her.

“Shane I- It almost,” Shane shushed her and just petted her hair until she was finished crying. Lori took her and got her cleaned up. Washed all the blood off and got her into clean clothes without question of the horrors she’d just faced. Victoria never knew her mother to be the silent type but maybe after seeing Carl she knew better than to ask.

After she was clean, Lori took her into Dale’s RV and held her while Shane stabilized her ankle. When he was done he left, Lori said that Victoria could stay on the RV couch because she’d be safe until she could put weight on her ankle.

Carl came into the rv and silently crawled into her lap, forcing himself to fit so that she could hold him. She rubbed his back in small circles with one hand and with the other played with his hair. It was something Lori always did for them. And despite how absolutely terrified she was, Victoria could feel her eyelids getting heavy.

Andera came in from her watch and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Victoria and Carl passed out on the RV couch. And while it would be the last time Victoria slept peacefully for a very long time, her adrenaline crash kept the nightmares away this night.

AN: after 50 million years and watching my tutorial just as many times I finally figured out how to copy the link for chapter one! I am actually so sorry for the gore guys but it’s only going to get worse from here I’m afraid😔🙏🏻

Hope yall enjoy regardless of how nasty this story is going to be😁

Taglist: @ebodebo

[coockie8]

the idea that rick would have to regularly explain to merle that he doesnt need to take abuse to show love and merle just not getting it cause hey thats how it worked with his dad is simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking

Rick: Okay but you understand I'm not your dad and I do actually love you, and therefore have no desire to hit you, right?

Merle:

[academicelephant]

More reasons I like Merle, this time canon only

he likes reading (the dude even knows snippets of the Bible by heart!)

he has a way with words (as he said himself, haha)

he openly expresses himself (this isn’t always that good thing though as he doesn’t seem to know when to keep his mouth shut)

he’s a flirt

he has done military service

linked to the previous one, he’s like really good at shooting and hand-to-hand combat

also, he’s an expert tracker and hunter

he's really tough too, I mean just think about it, he cut off his own hand and figured out a way to make sure he wouldn't bleed out!!

most the above basically just proves that he's intelligent

this one has more to do with the actor than the character I guess, but I love the way he speaks

and he’s kinda cute too

The problems I have with him obviously include his racism (I might be stupid or something but I don’t see how he’s misogynist?? so I’m not gonna mention that here), drug and alcohol abuse and difficulty to cooperate with other people. On the other hand, all of that can be explained by what he faced in his youth, which is painful to even think about and is why I don't have a huge issue with them, like in a sense that it doesn't make me hate him

[ankhmutes]

Catfish Charlie’s shitty drunk fic

I’m drinking a nice big-ass beer and of course, the urge to write hits. So... Abe/Merle. Not a pairing, but amazing teamwork from these boys. Daryl and Rick are there... and whoever else I think fits. (Fuck, and now that I type this out, I do THINK of Abe/Merle. what?! has anyone written this?) Rickyl if you squint and care.

Merle and Daryl were finishing up a pitcher of beer, Rick trying to finish his hamburger, and Abraham was staring down at his plate of nachos. It had been a long day, and the recent news they had received from Hershel had made the day even bleaker. Everyone was beyond pissed.

“That prick.”  Abe scowled, munching on the nachos.

“We oughta teach ‘im.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Merle said after a moment, his eyes landing on Rick’s badge. Rick’s blue eyes followed Merle’s, and subtly removed his badge, and tilted his head. Merle continued. “Dare n’ me are gonna go fishin’.”

“Huh?” Daryl turned his head to his brother, blinking a moment in confusion as the words penetrated his sulk. After a few long moments, his eyes widened in realization.

“Oh... yes. we’re goin’ fishin’. Gotta get some bait an’ all.” Daryl nodded as Abraham moved his head up slightly, blinking in confusion. “We just gotta get the right bait.” Daryl and Merle explained the situation to Rick and Abraham, who both sat up and shared identical looks of skepticism, and guarded interest.

“Are you sure You an’ Shane will get the call?” Abraham asked, leaning against his battered old jeep, waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive on-site.

“I’m pretty sure. I made sure Carol or Maggie would give us the call. I just gotta drop off some cookies for Negan. Carol insisted.” Rick said with a nod as Merle got out of the beat up blue pickup, followed by Daryl, who went to take out a large pail out of the truck bed, along with a cooler. It looked like any other work day for Dixon Bros. to any observer. Rick leaned over to kiss Daryl on the cheek, and sauntered off to the police station down the street, whistling ‘pop goes the weasel’. “

Inside was a different story.

“Hand me that bucket, Abe, hold ya breath.” Merle said with a grunt, tying a kerchief around his lower face, having doused it in colgone and rubbed Vick’s up his nose, and he still could smell Charlie.

Catfish Charlie.

Abraham grunted, putting the bucket on the top of the stairs, and turning just enough to hurl into Negan’s trash can. Daryl grunted from his corner, his own kerchief pulled up so far, only his blue eyes could be seen in the dark corner. “It’s not enough he stiffs us on this job, he hadta go an’ hurt the ol’ farmer.” Abraham wiped the back of his mouth.

“Charlie’s too good for this prick.” Daryl said from his corner, leaning on a sledgehammer, and checking the battered smartphone. “Check jus’ cleared.”

“Alright, now we can go.” Merle said with a chuckle, having spread a thick viscious layer of catfish charlie on every hidden nook and cranny in Philip’s office, including the duct openings.

Negan would have a surprise, once he came back to his used car dealership. Having sent everyone out for a christmas party, Negan had refused to pay Dixon Brothers Construction for their hard work, claiming that their work was substandard and shoddy, and had claimed theft, having Glenn arrested.

Everyone else knew the truth. Negan was cheating on his wife, who was undergoing chemotherapy, and he had been trying to take advantage of various women in the town, the most recent victim everyone’s favorite, Connie, the newest teacher over at the school, with Mr. Luke.

Connie was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Hershel, furious that someone had tried to touch one of his daughter’s friends, much less talk to her in a way that a lady shouldn’t be talked to, made a phone call to Rick Grimes. Everyone knew Rick, Rick was the lover-boy of Daryl Dixon. In turn, Daryl’s brother was Merle Dixon.

A Fixer.

Someone who got shit done.

And shit just got done, thought Abraham with mild admiration and fear as Merle loaded up his truck, making sure the work site was absolutely clear of any debris, any trace of their presence. Merle then moved slowly, eyeing the car dealership.

“C’mere.. gimme the pee.” Daryl moved carefully, handing Merle a small container. Abraham wandered over to his car, spreading bird seed as far as he could, along each corner of the dealership. Between the bird seed, and cat urine, and the catfish charlie... Negan would be in for a shitshow. And that was going to be literal.

After a long holiday weekend, phones all over Alexandria buzzed, dinged, rang, and beeped. Negan’s car dealership had been shat on by all sorts of birds, squirrels, and cats. Feral cats had cat fights on several nice new cars, and something had happened to the office. No one on Negan’s staff had dared go inside once the doors had opened.

Negan screamed for Dixon’s head on a platter.

Rick and Shane sauntered up a hour later, and told Negan that there was no cause. After all, the office was perfectly clean, tidy, and it had been locked since the Dixons had removed their equipment. One of Negan’s men, Dwight, had been the one to lock up and confirm that everything was in place...

Negan was fucked, and he knew who had done it, but he couldn’t prove it without incriminating himself. He’d get his revenge. Someday. Dixon would pay. Dixon and Grimes. The pricks from Alexandria.

“Have you heard of my brother, Merle?” Daryl asked in the bar later that night, standing in front of Connie, his hands moving in an slow awkward drawl, his fingers not quite used to the sign language he had been learning. Someone had finally told Connie why exactly Negan had decided to suddenly behave himself and go quiet.

[daddieslittlescrewup]

do u think will would ever bottom????

Well, he let me eat 'im out, an' one time I saw my mama finger 'im, so maybe? Probably depends on the person er how drunk he is.

[heythereofficerfriendly]

finally some good shit

[writella]

You had to have posted this one more than two months ago now, but I still think about it and honestly it’s because of the dialogue. I genuinely laughed. I can picture both Merle and Daryl saying these things and I loved it and it made me enjoy it the most.

Never would I imagine myself thinking about Merle but I just love this one— good job!! And thank you for making Daryl so sweet and cute and funny, I love him.💘

How would a threesome with Daryl and merle go?

I feel like Merle would make fun of Daryl for being slow/gentle, until dart gets so pissed at him and just fucking loses it: spanking and chocking and licking the tears off her face after she’s done gagging on merles dick

i think ur so right anon. 18+ content below.

What’s happening in front of you is a drastic sight in comparison to the sweetness behind you. Hands tangled in your hair, roughly steadying your head as the older Dixon practically fucks your face. His girthy length is hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. Oblivious of the fact that you can barely breath, or that there’s spit starting to drip down your chin and onto the bed. He doesn’t care. At all. His head is thrown back in ecstasy at the warmth of your mouth. Pretty lips wrapped around him and oh so eager to please.

It’s much different than the gentle touches from the man behind you. Hands roaming your back as he pushes into you. Slow, intimate thrusts. It’s good. You’re not complaining. But you also wouldn’t complain if he let loose a little. Smacked you around and showed you how rough he could be.

“You fuck like a girl, baby brother.” Merle’s voice rings through the cell.

“Shut up,” Daryl bites back, his next thrust already harder than the previous.

“I mean it. All slow and sappy. ‘Making love’.” He teases again, pulling you off for a second with a tug of your hair.

“She ain’t’ ever gonna cum like that ,brother. Gotta fuck her like y’ hate her.” He smirks down at you. Doe eyes sparkling up at him while you lick your way up his shaft. Tasting anything he’ll let you, while he gives you a moment to breath.

“Shut. Up.” Daryl repeats. Tone firm and irritated.

“No wonder he has anger issues,” Merle says to you, “Fucks you like you’re made of glass.” He looks up at his brother, forcing you to take his whole length with a gag.

“Y’ain’t gonna break her, Darleena. Why don’t you put a little pep in your step. She likes it rough. Told me so last night in the guard tow-.”

“I fuckin’ know how she likes it,” Daryl sneers, grabbing a hold of your hair and tugging you upward with a yelp.

“Ow,”

“Both o’ you can shut it.” He snaps. Your scalp starts to burn with how tight his grip is. Your hand goes back to grab at his wrist but he’s having none of it tonight. Not after Merle’s crude commentary and definitely not when he senses you biting back a giggle.

“You-” he nods at Merle, “You can sit down and deal with your own dick.” He leans in further, lips brushing you ear as he whispers, “and you. Think you could use a good reminding of exactly who you belong to.”

[xoxo-sarah]

My Wife

↝a/n: 2,605 w/c... I like this one, guys.

↝pairing: Season 1!Daryl x wife!reader

↝warning: usual walking dead stuff, angst, animal death (mentions blood. No details), reader being sexualized?, creepy men, harassment, the creepy guy getting punched (he deserved it), cursing, protective Daryl, Merle (ew), crying, moody and soft Daryl, sassy Daryl (it's season one, what do you expect?), slightly proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 10.2.24

Before the apocalypse, you'd say your life wasn't bad. You had a decent job that paid well. A husband, a dog, and a house you owned all on your own, without any help from your parents.

You had met Daryl fresh out of college. He was staying with Merle at the time. In a rush to get away from your parents, you found a rent-to-own house on the outskirts of Atlanta. It wasn't extravagant, only having 2 beds and one bath. It was still a house-your house.

The first time you went to the grocery store to stock up before you started work since the big move, an old man had hit on you. Daryl listened from afar, not wanting to cause any more trouble for you. He knew you hadn't been in these parts of town before, he hadn't seen you before.

After many attempts at shooting the guy down, Daryl had to intervene. The guy had grabbed your arm, and before you knew it, the guy was backing away from you.

“She said she's not interested.”

“My bad, man. Didn't know she was yours.” He raised his hands, grin still on his face. It was a game to him.

“So you only take no for an answer if I 'belong' to someone?” Venom laced your voice, disgust painted into the wrinkles between your eyebrows and frown lines, glaring through the guy. A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, followed by a smoker's cough that told you he had more tar in his lungs than he had sense in his brain.

“Ma'am, will all due respect-”

“I doubt anything respectful comes out of that raunchy mouth of yours.”

His grin dropped, eyes slanting in your direction. “This one sure has a mouth on her,” his attention moved back to Daryl. “She have that mouth in the sack?”

You scoffed, glancing down at the floor, collecting the words you wanted to shoot back at him.

In the time you looked away, Daryl had put the 12-pack of beer down and swung. You snapped your head up at the sound of a fist colliding with a cheek. Daryl glared, spitting at the man as he held his cheek in shock. “Give the lady some respect, prick.”

“Damnit, Dixon!” An elderly man came running down the aisle, a manager tag clinking against the pins on his shirt. Safe to say both men had been kicked out.

After checking out, you caught sight of Daryl hunched over, looking at his bruising knuckles.

“Here's for helping me.”

Daryl's head shot up, eyes flickering to the 12-pack in your outstretched hand. “Ya didn't have to.”

“You didn't have to.” He shrugged, taking the box from you.

the rest was history.

You eventually got together, then, moved in together. He supported you in your job, making jokes about you “bringing home the bacon”. The only downside was his brother.

“Damnit, Merle.”

An intoxicated Merle flopped on your couch, cackling up at Daryl. You watched from behind the couch, arms folded across Daryl's shirt draping over your form. Daryl's own top half was bare, his muscles flexing when he folded his arms in disappointment, glaring down.

“What? Did I interrupt you 'n your housewife duties?”

You scoffed, turning around to walk back to your room, the dog Daryl had gotten you for your birthday following after you. Merle watched your movement, lowly whistling. “I'd be a housewife for that piece, too.”

Daryl grabbed the collar of Merle's shirt, bringing him to eye level. “Don't talk about my wife like that.” He threw him back against the couch, “You're out by the mornin'.”

The world had gone to shit right in the middle of your workday. Everyone was running around, yelling and panicking. You tried making a beeline for your car, getting pushed and pulled every which way. The traffic was the worst you had ever seen, when you had finally made your way onto the road.

When you finally got home, the door was open.

You rushed in, looking in every room. There was no sign of Daryl besides the place being completely trashed, in a rush to leave. He wasn't there. You had no clue where he was, if he was safe, if he knew what was happening.

You cracked the backdoor open, nearly falling to your knees. A body laid on the back porch, blood dried on its way down the person's forehead. A lump of fur and blood was right beside it. A sob racked your body on your way back to your car. Your knuckles were ghostly white as they gripped the steering wheel, as you made your way out of town, away from the life you worked hard to get and worked harder to keep.

You eventually got stuck in even more traffic. Everything only got worse when your car ran out of gas.

You had to hide in the city, which was run with zombies. Luckily for you, you had found a few bodies that hadn't turned yet, stealing anything that could be used as a weapon. You were able to stay safe, hiding in an empty office building. Living off of the vending machines and what was left in the break rooms.

You regularly walked up to the roof, getting fresh air, wondering where Daryl had gone and if he was thinking of you. Sure, a part of you wanted to be mad at him for leaving without you, but you knew he had to have his reasons. Merle had to of made him run away with him when the news first got out.

While you looked over the edge, watching as dead bodies herded together, feasting on whatever had run into the city on your way up here, you saw quick movement to your left. Swirling around, you held your gun up, pointing it at the kid in front of you.

“Woah, Hey! I'm alive- I'm alive! Not going to hurt you.” The poor boy might as well have been shivering in his boots. His hands shook in the air. He was probably the third person you've seen, alive, since you squatted in the top floor. He didn't seem like the guy to kill you just to take your stuff. “Look, there's a guy in the tank down there. I'm just trying to help him.” You thought back to the sounds of pained neighing you heard when you first stepped onto the roof, but you had shrugged it off, figuring you were going insane already. No sleep and being isolated will do that to you. “C'mon, dude.” He was practically begging you to not shoot him in the head.

What would Daryl do in this situation? He wouldn't just trust anyone when it comes to survival. You reluctantly put your gun down, watching as he sighed in relief. You hid the shake in your hands when they fell to your sides, not wanting him to know you didn't want to kill him even if he were dangerous.

“We have to get down there to help him.” The boy leaned over the edge, at the tank and the 'geeks' that surrounded it.

“We?”

He looked back at you, then to the tank. “The extra help would be appreciated.”

Somehow, you followed after him, climbing down fire escapes and counting the amount of bodies in each alleyway. He was quick, but you kept up with him with ease.

He led you down the alleyway, hiding behind the trashcans and gate separating you and a painful death. “You have good aim? I need you to shoot that big guy closest to the tank.” He whispered, fixing the hat on his head.

You glanced at him, watching as he awaited your next move. You whispered back, “it's empty.” You held the gun up in emphasis. You weren't going to tell him that when it was pointed at him. He huffed, throwing his head back. “I only have a knife.”

He shrugged off his backpack, grabbing the empty gun and throwing it in there. It was useless with no bullets, and it only took up a hand, making it harder for you to climb.

“Alright, change of plans.” He grabbed the walkie, bringing it to his mouth before pressing the button. “Hey, you alive in there?”

A frantic voice broke through the static, “Hello? Hello?!”

The next thing you knew, you were running downstairs with the young boy, Glenn, you had figured out, and the guy you nearly died saving, Rick. Glenn led you two to another alleyway, before the door to the building in front of you busted open, 2 people filing out with gear and helmets on, attacking the walkers wondering in front of you.

“Lets go!” Glenn jumped over the bodies on the ground, running through the door, you and Rick following. As soon as you were through the door, you were pushed to the other side of the wall, before Rick was pushed back, a gun aimed at his face. “You son of a bitch! We ought to kill you.” A blonde woman was seething, ready to put a bullet in Rick's head.

“Just chill out, Andrea. Back off.” One of the guys who bashed the walker's head in pulled off the armor, glaring at the blonde.

“Come on, ease up.”

“Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole.” The gun was pointed at you next, “And her.” Her finger twitched on the trigger, but you were at a loss of words.

“She helped.” Glenn was ignored.

“Andrea, I said, back the hell off. Or pull the trigger.” The same guy from before stepped forward, closer to Andrea. It was silent for a second, before Andrea dropped her hand, lips quivering with oncoming tears. You took a breath, having the room to do so when a gun isn't pointed at you.

“We're dead,” Andrea sobbed, “All of us.” Her gaze moved back to Rick, “Because of you.”

You wondered after everyone as they walked through the old building, listening as they scolded rick for firing his gun.

“No signal. Maybe the roof.” The man, who was introduced as T-Dog, said, holding the walkie. Before anyone else could reply, a gun shot fired, echoing from above.

“Oh no, Is that Dixon?”

“Dixon?”

Andrea stopped her movement, looking back at you. “Yeah. What, you know 'em?”

Sadly, you were met with a distasteful Merle on the roof. He refused to tell you about Daryl-about how Merle had to drag in out of the house. About how Daryl wanted to pick you up and take you with them. About how Daryl had gone back, against Merle's wishes, and found you nowhere in the house. But you weren't told that, so the nerves in your stomach still fluttered, making you feel like you were going to vomit any minute. The only thing he told you was that Daryl was with the rest of the group by the quarry.

The nerves still fluttered even on your way to the said quarry. The thought of Merle being trapped in the roof was at the back of your mind, the thought of seeing Daryl for the first time in God knows how long, being front and center in your mind. Your leg shook with nerves as you sat in the back of the van, hitting a bump every once in a while, and knocking into one of the other people.

The van pulled up to the quarry, people piling out of the back, running to their families.

You were introduced to a woman named Carol. She was surprised when you told her that you knew Daryl. The short time she had known the man, she couldn't think of him having a soft spot for anyone, but here you were. She told you that he had gone hunting and that he should be back before dawn.

You sat around, getting to know everyone. As soon as Carol's husband raised his voice to her, you had kept an eye on him, instantly feeling protective of the woman. As she silently did for you. She kept an eye on you, making sure you felt comfortable among all of the strangers.

Night fell and there was still no sign of Daryl. You distracted yourself by helping Carol with whatever, or Dale with lookout. You hadn't told anyone much about you and Daryl. Mostly because you couldn't form a coherent sentence with Daryl on your mind. Where was he? Was he okay? Why wasn't he back? The band around your ring finger became a fidget habit. You spun it around any time the thoughts got too much.

The crisp morning air did little to wake you. You might as well have been a walker with how you sluggishly moved around camp, helping with anything, wanted to be helpful and pull your weight.

Carol handed you another pair of soaked pants, to ring the water out and hang it up to dry. While doing so, your eyes caught sight of Rick and Lori. They had been reunited. When was it your turn?

“How did you and Daryl meet?” Glancing back up at Carol, you cleared your throat to speak.

Before you could utter a word, a scream echoed throughout the camp, followed by Carl's screams for his mother.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, a few running toward the screaming, ready for the worst.

You walked behind the group, watching as Rick, Glenn, Dale, Shane, and a few others beat the walker that had made it from the city.

Dale swung down with his axe, cutting the head clean off the walker's body.

“It's the first one we've had up here.” He heaved, “They never come this far up the mountain.”

“Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what.” Another guy, Jim, said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Branches snapped, followed by more footsteps. The guys with the weapons moved toward the sound, weapons ready.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Daryl stepped over branches, slightly taken aback with everyone standing in front of him, ready to strike.

Everyone took a step back, “Oh, Jesus.” Dale's shoulders released the tension.

“Son of a bitch.” Daryl cursed, “That's my deer!” He walked to what was left of the poor animal.

He looked how he did when you first met. Frustration clear on his brow. You had helped him get rid of the constant scrunch of his brow and frown on his lips, and here it was, making its appearance in a dramatic manner.

“Look at it, all gnawed on by this-” He kicked the headless body that laid on the ground, “filthy,” kick “disease-bearing,” kick “motherless,” kick “poxy bastard!”

“Calm down, son. That's not helping.” Dale peeped, infuriating Daryl more.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl walked closer, getting in Dale's face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to “On Golden Pond”?"

“Daryl.”

Daryl paused, his face dropping. He turned to the voice, his knees nearly collapsing from underneath him.

Before you could say anything else, his crossbow was dropping to the ground, followed by the string of squirrels on his shoulder. He rushed over, his body colliding with yours. His calloused hands pulled your face closer to his.

He didn't care if everyone was watching. Or if the scene made them think differently about his tough-guy thing he had going on. His lips moved against yours.

“I didn't know where you were.” He mumbled against your lips. “I tried looking everywhere-”

“I know, I know. Doesn't matter.”

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex

Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut. 

Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao

You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either. 

On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry. 

You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women. 

He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.

You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.

He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him. 

Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question. 

“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.

He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before. 

He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you. 

“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?” 

“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group. 

“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends. 

“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.” 

He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened. 

Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone  attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker. 

Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay. 

“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly. 

“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire. 

The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways. 

You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.

“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”

Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry) 

The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line. 

“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”

“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.” 

It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you. 

You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease. 

You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle. 

“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets. 

He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”

You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane. 

“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp. 

Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. 

“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown  branches from the larger trees. 

“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.” 

You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy. 

“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard. 

“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?” 

“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list. 

“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend. 

“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you. 

“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly. 

“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.” 

“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”

You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long. 

You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl. 

He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle. 

Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on. 

“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows. 

Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils. 

You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this. 

Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it. 

He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes. 

You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips. 

“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down. 

He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it. 

“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face. 

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” 

Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak. 

You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth. 

He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt. 

You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there. 

He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made. 

You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right. 

“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction. 

“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs. 

When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic. 

“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.

He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs. 

You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed. 

Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you. 

He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around. 

You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud. 

Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped. 

“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up. 

Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed. 

“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you. 

He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie. 

You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths. 

He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees. 

The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you. 

“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you. 

What Daryl  didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him. 

“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.” 

He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow. 

Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips. 

You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time. 

His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making. 

“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth. 

His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin. 

He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet. 

“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.” 

He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time. 

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder. 

The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.

“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you. 

“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you. 

All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist. 

“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete. 

“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his. 

The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it. 

You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.

Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.

 Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you. 

“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds. 

“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.” 

He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted. 

“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit. 

“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”

You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”

“Fuck him.”

“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement. 

The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again. 

Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions. 

“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies. 

It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp. 

Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck. 

And his fly was still down. 

“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.

“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.” 

“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face. 

“Hey.”

“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already. 

“Think she’ll give me a ride?”

“Shut the hell up, man.” 

[optimist-pine]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

[dixons-sunshine]

So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.

Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.

Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.

Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.

Word count: 1.5k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.

This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.

Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.

Until now.

The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.

However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.

“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.

Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.

Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.

As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.

Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”

Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.

You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.

Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.

“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”

Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.

You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.

“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”

Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.

“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”

[coockie8]

what is your fav art piece your done?

Oh, that's a hard question haha I don't think I have specific favourite piece in general, but I do have favourite pieces for every fandom and OC artwork.

This is one (There's Something About Mr. Masters) is probably my favourite Danny Phantom artwork. It's the lockscreen image on my PC and everything lol

This one (Drakaerys; Cosmic Entity of Power, nevermind tumblr killed the quality a little bit haha) is probably my favourite OC piece (though it will likely be replaced by Pidge: Cosmic Entity of Thought once I actually get It done because Pidge is just my favourite Cosmic Entity lol)

And this one (Introducing Millie, which has never actually been posted because there's a fic that goes with it) is my current favourite for The Walking Dead, though I'm working on some other pieces currently that may dethrone it lol

[academicelephant]

Letter from Merle cause I saw your reblog. It might not be quite what you had in mind. But I hope you like it anyway:

Hey Sugar

I’m not great at these mushy, letter-writing things but I’m gonna try.

You’re doing mighty fine out here. Don’t make stupid mistakes like me. You’re smarter than you think.

And you can do better than me, that’s for damn sure.

I’m keeping this short n sweet. I’ve poured my heart out enough.

Just, stay alive and out of trouble.

I’ll see you soon hopefully.

Merle

P.S. bring that fine ass with you too.

Thank you, it's really sweet of you to have taken time for doing this 🙏💙

Hi Merle,

It's so nice to hear from you! I know it isn't exactly your style to open up on paper, or on anything else for that matter, which is exactly why this made me so happy. Anyway, I'm trying my best here (and being pretty successful in it too, I guess) while wishing I was with you instead. Before you ask, I'm okay, no worries, but I'd really want to be in your arms right now.

Hoping to see you soon,

Ellie

P.S. I love you!